


hold on to the memories (they will hold on to you)

by procrastinationfairy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, gratuitous taylor swift title bc i couldn't think of another else involving memories, i love amnesia aus and i want everyone to suffer with me, other characters are there but they don't really speak, though to be fair we could have gone a lot farther down the suffering rabbit hole, zimbits as background characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 14:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17327102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinationfairy/pseuds/procrastinationfairy
Summary: Alexei stares at the ceiling for about five minutes before his head finally bobs to the side, looking first to their hands and then to Kent’s face. He stares a moment longer as his dark brows draw together, mouth curling like it always did before he started an argument. Kent prepared himself. No, Alyosha, I was not going to stay in Vegas while you were hurt. Don’t even say stupid shit like that.Instead of any of the comments Kent expects, Alexei spits out, “Little rat,” as he tries to yank his hand back. Kent could have held on, but he’s too shocked to do much more than laugh.//Alexei takes a nasty hit during a game and loses his memories of his marriage. Kent does not deal with that.





	hold on to the memories (they will hold on to you)

**Author's Note:**

> I am neither married nor a hockey fan, so I know I’m getting some (a lot) of this wrong. Please ignore all parts of the hockey stuff that don’t make sense. I already tried to keep as much of that out of this fic as possible. Also, I’m not sure how the NHL would actually operate with a married couple? So, uh. Yeah, let’s just slop something together. This works.
> 
> I may or may not write more depending on if I have time/anyone is interested. I'm concentrating on a fic for another fandom, but I was really tempted to write for this, so.

It’s not the first time Kent and Alexei have games at the same time. Their schedules overlap frequently enough because it’s the NHL. They’re used to spending a lot of time apart during the season, and as much as they would like to be sitting in the stands for every game, they prefer to be on the ice with their own teams. They also have their superstitions, so they don’t usually talk much on game days beyond the good luck call in the morning. When Kent exits the locker room, digging his phone out while he listens to his teammates chatter about their win, he doesn’t expect many messages.

His phone buzzes once. Then again. And again and again, a constant vibration on his palm while the notifications roll in.

 _Jack Zimmermann_ _  
_ _Missed Call (2)_

 _Eric Bittle  
_ _Missed Call (1)_

 _New Message_ _  
_ _EB: I haven’t heard much yet, and..._

 _New Message_ _  
_ _JZ: At the hospital. Will tell you if..._

 _Georgia Martin_ _  
_ _Missed Call (3)_

_GM: Call me. Alexei was hurt in…_

There might have been more. Kent doesn’t bother to read anything else. He fumbles with his phone, trying to dial Georgia’s number while shoving his bag at Troy just ahead.

“Hey--Parse, what the fuck?”

“Take it home, I’ve got to--” Kent can’t elaborate. He trusts Jeff to deal with it until he can send an actual coherent message about what favor he’s asking. Jeff is used to his shit. A hockey bag is better than some of the other crap he’d put up with over the years.

After that, it’s a blur. Kent assumes he took a plane because he arrives in Providence around eight hours later, which isn’t the kind of trip he could have made in a car, even with his penchant for speeding. Somehow, Kent ends up at the hospital, and that’s a blur for another reason. Too many voices, all Falcs, but he tries to focus on the one that matters. Georgia Martin is calm in times when everyone else is not. Georgia Martin is matter of fact. She does not beat around the bush.

Her explanation on the phone was mostly the same as the one she gives to Kent in person. Kent feels a little bad for that because he’s pretty sure he tuned her out after the words, “Alexei was hit during the second period. He’s being transported to the hospital.” There’s a rundown of what happened in the game, and Kent would care more if he wasn’t trying to get to Alexei’s side. Georgia gives the bare minimum of details, probably because she can tell Kent doesn’t actually care about that, and she leads him to Alexei’s room, where he’s allowed in after it’s made clear that he’s his husband.

It’s not the first time Kent wishes they weren’t both still playing. It’d be unfair to ask Alexei to give up hockey, and Kent has no desire to retire yet either. But he hates himself for being on the opposite side of the country when Alexei takes a hit this bad.

“Hey, baby,” he says as he pulls up a chair beside the bed. He grabs Alexei’s left hand, clasping it between both of his own and tracing over the slight indentation where his wedding band usually lies. Kent’s not wearing his own either. He leaves it at home, so he doesn’t lose it. That means his is back in Vegas. Where Alexei’s is--fuck if he knows. That’s not a conversation they’ve ever had in their three years of marriage. When they get together during the season, it’s usually a lot of sex, and when they get together post-season--well, that’s a lot of sex too. But that’s when they have their more domestic times as well, and Kent usually pushes hockey to the side so he can enjoy being married to Alexei Mashkov.

Alexei does not answer or even move his hand. Hooked up to all the machines, he looks far too much like Jack looked a long time ago.

(Jack was bigger than Kent, but he’d seemed small in the hospital bed. Kent had only had a quick look before things were changed to family only. He’d wanted to protest that he was family, but he waited in the hall instead while Bob and Alicia did whatever they were doing. Before Kent left for the draft, Bob told him that Jack was looking better, though he wasn’t awake yet. Kent didn’t see that. He remembered the images of Jack on the floor and Jack in the hospital bed far too well--his skin unnaturally pale, his body stiff like a corpse, dark hair and closed eyes.)

Alexei is significantly different from Jack. His body is bulkier, wider, and he couldn’t look frail even in his condition. His head is bandaged, but beyond that, he looks almost normal. Kent raises his hand to his lips and kisses each fingertip, watching the slow rise of Alexei’s chest. Alexei is alive.

It’s loud in the hospital. Kent doesn’t know how many teammates came to the hospital immediately after Alexei’s accident, but now that he’s there, it’s slowly clearing out. Kent remembers a few of them stopping to say something--Snowy, Jack, the rookie that Alexei’s taken a liking to. Eric is there as well, and he makes a comment about Kent telling Tater to ask for as many pies as he wants when he wakes up. Kent thinks he said something back. He hopes it was something like, “I won’t have to tell him to ask for pie,” or, “Yeah, let’s keep him off the ice for the rest of the season by fattening him up.” He’s pretty sure it was more like, “Okay. Bye.”

Eventually, they’re all gone. Kent’s not sure if that’s good or bad. He wants to be alone with his husband, but Alexei isn’t awake. Nurses flutter in and out of the room every so often. They try to talk to him, but Kent isn’t up for conversation. He stays at Alexei’s bedside and holds his hand.

It’s around 2:47 A.M. when Alexei wakes up. Kent only knows because he stared at the clock for a long time, trying to remember how to read analog in his half-dazed state. He’s considering heading to a vending machine for a snack and debating how bad that would be for his diet when he feels Alexei’s fingers, long and thick, sliding against his skin.

“Alyosha?” Kent calls, sitting closer. His heart races a little faster. His hands grip at Alexei’s a little harder, and his eyes bug out while he waits for another sign. Alexei’s lips, soft and pink, press together, his face contorting as his eyes slowly open. It’s fairly light in the room for the time of night, so it takes a moment before his eyes are really open. Alexei groans, low and deep. Kent squeezes his hand in sympathy as he waits for the rest of his senses to come to, which takes a little longer. Kent’s had concussions before. Never any like the one that knocked Alexei all the way to the hospital, but he’s aware that Alexei isn’t going to be fully clear yet.

Alexei stares at the ceiling for about five minutes before his head finally bobs to the side, looking first to their hands and then to Kent’s face. He stares a moment longer as his dark brows draw together, mouth curling like it always did before he started an argument. Kent prepared himself. _No, Alyosha, I was_ not _going to stay in Vegas while you were hurt. Don’t even say stupid shit like that._

Instead of any of the comments Kent expects, Alexei spits out, “Little rat,” as he tries to yank his hand back. Kent could have held on, but he’s too shocked to do much more than laugh.

“Seriously? Now?” he says, shaking his head. He’s mostly teased Alexei for that comment over the years, until it became a running joke.

“Where George?” Alexei asks instead of replying. He groans again, shifting on the bed. “Why--? Hospital,” he says, clutching at the sheets on the bed as if he only just realized where he was.

“Yeah. You’re in the hospital, baby,” Kent says.

Alexei stares at him again, those dark eyes squinting like Kent’s the sun and he’s burning his eyes, how dare he be out at this time of night and right in Alexei’s face. “Bad chirp,” he replies. “Why you here, Parson?”

“George called me when they took you to the hospital,” Kent starts, but Alexei only looks more confused and interrupts.

“Call? Ref make you leave? What happen? Dirty Aces knock into me for you?” And now Kent’s the one who’s confused. He leans back in his chair and waits for Alexei to elaborate. “You hit Snowy, I hit you, they hit me. But I do not hit you, Parson. Just little shake. No harm.”

That didn’t help at all. “Alyosha, are you okay?”

“Why you call me that? Not for you,” Alexei protests. Which is--weird. Alexei asked Kent to call him that almost as soon as it was clear they were actually going to be in each other’s lives. Alexei likes to have someone other than Russians using his nickname because he still thinks it’s weird to have people calling him Alexei. Of course, Alexei still makes fun of him for butchering the pronunciation, no matter how many times Kent tries to make it sound _better_. Still, Alexei never asks Kent to stop calling him Alyosha even when they fight. “Baby,” maybe, “hotstuff,” yeah. But Alyosha? Never.

“It’s your name, Alyosha,” Kent says.

Alexei’s eyes are blank. “Why you here?” The words are gruff, like it hurts to think in English. Kent figures it does. Alexei’s lived in America for a long time, but a hit like that could have messed up the language part of the brain.

“You want me to get a translator?” he offers, knowing his own Russian is too rudimentary to be much help in this situation.

“Want you to leave,” Alexei says, hissing as he pushes himself up a little higher in the bed. “Where is George, Parson? Or Thirdy? Marty?”

Thirdy. Marty. If Kent remembers right, those guys retired a while back. Something sinks in his stomach as he starts to connect the dots.

“Alyosha, you . . . know who I am, right?” he asks, which is really a stupid question considering he’s used his name multiple times. But not Kent or Kenny or one of the sappy nicknames Alexei likes to use when Kent is being evasive of his affection.

Alexei recognizes it as a stupid question because he gives him a sharp look. “Kent Parson. Not a concussion check question. Why you here?”

It’s not like Kent’s a doctor. He can’t say for sure what’s happening. But the fear of his husband and his marriage disappearing into the depths of Alexei’s mind, leaving Kent as alone as the day they started talking, is enough that it makes Kent run to the trash can and puke. Then the doctors come in, and Kent lets them have at it. He doesn’t look at Alexei. He doesn’t want to see the look in his eyes, though he can hear his tone--skepticism, loathing, frustration. They’re all reasonable emotions. Kent just wishes they weren’t all about their marriage.


End file.
